


A Place to Stay

by AnAceAJokerAndAQueen



Series: To Walk the Long Road Home [2]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Hannibal (TV), James Bond (Craig movies), Lucifer (TV), Shadowhunters (TV), Sherlock (TV), Supernatural, Teen Wolf (TV), The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Awesome Sheriff Stilinski, But Not For Long!, Depression, Don’t worry, F/M, Freddy Lounds is not alive, Hannibal is Kind of a Dick, Hurt Simon Lewis, Idiots in Love, Implied/Referenced Suicide attempt, Intersex Will Graham, M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Minor Character Death, Minor Relationships, Multi, Mycroft is a High Warlock, Nice Peter, OC's - Freeform, Pining, Q is a Holmes, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is John, Wendigo Hannibal Lecter, Wendigo Will Graham, not for long
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-10
Updated: 2019-09-02
Packaged: 2019-10-25 09:37:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 19,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17722724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnAceAJokerAndAQueen/pseuds/AnAceAJokerAndAQueen
Summary: Will Graham finds himself alone and in the Downworld with no one to turn to. Luckily, Stiles doesn't mind roommates.





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Magnus finds himself with a rather unexpected guest.

Humming along with the song on the radio, Magnus determines the living room to be spotless- or well, as clean as it could be for owning a cat- and checked the time, sitting down on the loveseat. 

8:35, and almost an hour since Alexander had call to say he was bringing dinner- Greek food- having gotten off early from patrolling. 

Not that there had been much besides the usual. Morgenstern’s death had had a ripple effect in what demons were crawling around, the city quieter than it had been in years. It was a relief, but the Institute was still wary.

And yet Alexander, for the life of him, could not manage to be on time to a dinner he suggested. Well, the traffic was the same as it had always been, dreadful.

Magnus hummed, petting Chairman Meow, the small cat purring contentedly in his lap.

A soft knock on the door and Magnus leapt to his feet, eager to see Alexander, Chairman Meow following leisurely behind him.

“Honestly Alexander, did you go to the place closest to the Institute to get dinner? The wait there is horribly long, you know tha-” Magnus says loudly, swinging open the door only to find someone other than Alexander standing there.

The man standing there looked dreadfully tired, and exhausted in more ways than one. Pale skin, hair messy and rumpled, grey eyes downcast, and an arm curved protectively around his barely rounded stomach.

Oh.

Oh dear.

“I… I was told you might help me.” The man says softly, and Magnus listens to the gravelly edge in his voice, the sound of unused vocal chords. 

“... Come in.” Magnus says, and watches as the man slowly walks inside, only a suitcase at his heels. 

Magnus turns, gesturing to the couch. “Please, sit.” He says, sitting down himself on the loveseat, angling himself towards the man.

The man seems cautious, but sits down on the edge of the couch. Chairman Meow rubs against the stranger’s leg, and Magnus knows he’s in for it now, settling in for a long night. 

The only other people Chairman approved of were Stiles and Alexander, which certainly said something. Even with that, it had taken some time for Chairman Meow to warm up to Alexander.

 

“Hello,” Magnus says, startling the man to look up at him from watching the cat, “I’m Magnus Bane, but please, call me Magnus. Tell me everything you feel comfortable telling me, and I’ll see what I can do to help.” He says, and the man continues to keep his gaze low, speaking to Chairman Meow rather than to himself. Understandable, really.

“My name is Will. I… My partner… I think he changed me. I Saw him, Saw what he truly was, and we were alright- we were together for a little while.” He says, a pained and sorrowful smile upon his face, “But he left me, thinking I had hurt him, that I had- betrayed him. He lashed out, hurting me and… and killing our foster daughter.” He murmurs, breath hitching now and again.

Magnus conjures a cup of tea and pushes it into Will’s hand, who accepts and takes a slow sip. The man clearly needed it, a mix of relaxants and what Magnus knew to be safe for babies from previous mothers stopping by for his help.

“I was in the hospital until recently. The doctors told me that I’m severely undernourished for how far along I am, but I couldn’t stay there. I don’t know if... If the babies need different things because of the change, I don’t even know what I am now.” He says, his pale skin turning pitch black along his fingertips, looking up with pupiless white eyes.

“Twins?” Magnus asks softly, and Will nods, stunned at the lack of reaction from him, his skin and eyes shifting back. Magnus wondered if he was perhaps a Wendigo. More likely that he was a Ravenstag, to have such control over a limited shift. 

Rare then, and with specific needs. His mate would have to be monitored if he could be found, for Magnus knew that most Ravenstag didn't leave behind their pregnant mates. Ever. Ravestag were up there along with Werewolves over how they chose their mates, protecting them tooth and claw. And that was before children came into the picture.

“Y-yeah.” Will says, and turns when the door opens behind them.

Alexander stands in the doorway holding a takeout bag, looking confused only for a moment, before closing the door behind him.

“I got more than enough for everbody.” He says calmly, walking by towards the kitchen, takeout bag in hand. Magnus smiles fondly at him as Alexander brushes a hand along his shoulder as he walks by. 

Dishes clink in the kitchen and Magnus turns back to Will, mind already far ahead and thinking of what to do next.

“Well, let’s eat, and then let’s see what we can figure out about you, Will. I think I have an idea or two.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles welcomes Will to the Stilinski house, and Stiles begins to wonder about this so called mate of his.

Stiles yawns, followed by taking a huge gulp of his coffee, one eye on the sizzling pan of eggs on the stove, and the other on the toaster.

Footsteps drew closer, and both Emma and Tony wander down the stairs, drawn by the smell of coffee and breakfast. 

Emma and Tony- along with Simon- were some of the very few with nowhere left to go after Morgenstern, and had tentatively taken up his offer of somewhere to stay. With the expansions Gabe had agreed to make on the house, Stiles could easily offer them the space, and all were slowly adjusting to the new environment shift, hugely different than from the place they were before.

Finishing breakfast and plating up the eggs and toast for the three of them, Stiles goes over to the fridge and pulls out a blood bag, carefully opening the resealable cap and pouring about half of the bag into a glass before putting the bag back, washing his hands before sitting down in the dining room to eat. 

Simon wanders down less than a minute later, drawn by the smell, and Stiles keeps one eye on him as Simon downs the glass in the kitchen before wandering over to the living room.

Once he hears the TV turn on, Stiles focuses back on eating, half listening to Tony talk to Emma, and half thinking to himself. 

Simon hadn’t dealt well with becoming a Daylighter on top of his adjusting to becoming a Vampire, and how Stiles knew that in the first place wasn’t a nice story. So Stiles spoke with Lily often, doing what he could to help Simon. 

Emma and Tony had been taken by Morgenstern a few days apart, and both were on the ship less than a week before the battle. Emma and Tony had both been picked up by Circle members off the streets, Stiles knew that much from what they had both told him. 

Some of many people with stories similar about what had happened, Stiles knew.

Emma was still visiting every couple days with Dr. Martin, and despite of Lucifer’s disparaging comments about Dr. Martin, the doctor had done a lot in helping her deal with her trauma- both from Morgenstern and from before her kidnapping. 

Tony seemed more at ease in the last few days, his part-time job at a local construction crew therapeutic for him. Stiles spoke with him at least once a day, and Tony spoke easier about things in general. 

That and Dean offered to take Tony shooting on the weekends, both spending a few hours on the weekend at Bobby’s every now and again. That seemed to make Tony feel better too. 

Emma wandered to the living room after breakfast, and Tony bid them all goodbye before heading off to work. 

Stiles did the dishes before walking up to his study, settling in to work on a charm set a client had ordered. Not hard to make, he just needed time to make it. Carving charms was fun, and it was only an hour or so later before he finished the set.

 

Checking his phone on his way to grab more coffee, Stiles realized he had several missed calls from Magnus. 

Listening through them before checking the time, Stiles realized that Magnus was going to be arriving shortly, and that it would probably be best to tell Simon and Emma what was going on. 

Walking into the living room, Stiles finds Emma and Simon watching Doctor Who, avidly discussing the Police Box vs. the Magically Extended Tent from Harry Potter, and which was larger by technicality. 

“Hey, so Magnus just called, and he’s going to be showing up soon with someone who’s gonna be staying with us.” Stiles says, and both turn to look at him. “New to the Downworld too, so try not to spook him, he’s got enough on his plate already.” 

Emma nods and Simon asks curiously, “Do you know what he is? Wait, does he even know what he is then, if he’s new to this?” 

“Magnus confirmed that he’s Ravenstag. Think Wendigo, but with more control after their turning. Like, a lot more.” Stiles says, and Simon looks mildly interested. 

“So, he… Also eats humans like a wendigo would? ‘Cause that’s a bit weird.” Simon says a little nervously, and Stiles shakes his head.

“To be honest, it would be like starving himself if he went too long without eating it, and Magnus told me that because of how he was turned he doesn’t- and can’t- hunt for himself all that well. Not that he wasn’t already a selective hunter, Magnus says he preferred hunting killers, when he could still hunt.” Stiles says, and Simon nods.

“Why can’t he hunt for himself? That seems like an important thing to be able to do, as a predator.” Emma asks, and Stiles frowns, shaking his head in remembering what Magnus had said.

“His mate never taught him. Ravenstag usually teach their new partners or offspring to hunt, and are gathered in tight knit family groups. But his mate left before that, and didn’t even tell him officially that he was going to Turn him.” 

Emma growls lowly. “That’s awful! How could he, he- just leave like that? Especially if they were mates! I know that has to be like, one of the worst things you could do to a newly turned.”

Stiles nods his head. “Yeah, I know.” He says, and the doorbell rings, Simon and Emma’s heads turning to look at the entryway as Stiles heads to open the door.

“Hello Stiles, good to see you.” Magnus greets him, and Stiles hugs him briefly before turning to look at the man standing behind Magnus. 

Tired, pale, and emotionally drained, grey eyes framed by black glasses. To be frank, he looked like shit.

“Hey, I’m Stiles. Welcome. If you’d like, Simon and Emma are in the living room right now- they live here too- or if you don’t feel up to meeting them, that’s okay. I could show you around and you can pick a room.” Stiles says, and the man stands there thinking before Stiles and Magnus usher him in the door, Magnus heading to the living room.

“Um, I think I’d like to sleep for a little while, actually.” He says softly, and Stiles smiles at him.

“Alright, no problem. But Emma and Simon are gonna bombard you with questions at some point, so prepare yourself for that. Don't worry. Simon's known to ramble sometimes, so it'll be pretty mutual.” Stiles says, showing him to the now convenient elevator Gabe had put in during remodeling.

A decent point, for the injured traveling multiple staircases from the top floor, or that Stiles is not the only person who is occasionally a tripping hazard to themselves. 

“Dinner’s at six usually, and just down the hall from the entryway and to the right. There's a bathroom down the hall, the door should be open, so it should be easy to find.” Stiles lists off and leads the man to one of the larger bedrooms on the fourth floor, one of the few rooms with two connecting bedrooms. That might be coming in handy sooner than Stiles thought it would. “Here we are,” Stiles says, opening the door. 

“Thank you.” The man says, hand resting briefly on his stomach before moving into the room, suitcase dragging behind him. 

“No problem. Hope we see you at dinner.” Stiles says with a smile as he turns to go. 

“Will.” The man says, and Stiles stops.

“Huh?” Stiles says, and the man looks up for a few seconds.

“My name is Will.” Will says, looking away, and Stiles grins. 

“Well then, I hope to see you at dinner, Will.” Stiles says, before closing the door.

Heading down the stairs, Stiles hopes Magnus has something for him on the mate because honestly, Stiles wanted to know what the fuck that man was thinking to have left Will, and that was a question he wanted to ask in person.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Magnus informs Stiles and his roommates about Will's situation, and no one's really all too happy with Hannibal right now.

Magnus had situated himself on the end of the couch, sitting in between Emma on the armchair and Simon on the middle of the couch, the TV paused. The two of them were pestering Magnus with various questions, but quieted down when they saw Stiles enter the room.

“Well, that was…” Stiles draws off, not really having anything to say about what he’d just witnessed. Yeah, not awesome at all.

Magnus turns as Stiles comes around the couch and sits on the other end.

“Quite.” Magnus agrees, words not needed to convey his disbelief. 

“So wait, what’s going on? I got most of what’s happened, but, I mean, I don’t think what you said earlier is all of what there is going on.” Emma says, and Stiles nods his head to Magnus.

“I think you know the most, right now,” Stiles says, “And I want to know what you’ve gotten on his mate so far.” 

Magnus snorts. “I may be magical, but I’m not that magical.” He says with a grin, before sighing. “Not as much as your hoping for, but enough that you have somewhere to start looking.” He sighs again.

“You won’t like it, and I doubt your opinion of Will’s mate is going to get any better.” Magnus says, and Stiles gives him a ‘no shit’ look before waving his hand for Magnus to continue.

“I know most of this from what Will told me and from what a quick search on the internet brought up, but I’m sure there’s more.” Magnus says to Stiles. 

“Will Graham, former criminal profiler for FBI, recently was put in the hospital after confronting Dr. Hannibal Lecter- his mate- in a bloody confrontation between the FBI and now known serial killer Dr. Lecter- again, not unusual for a Ravenstag. Prideful killers.” Magnus huffs, taking a breath before continuing. “Will was one of several who were injured in the confrontation, but I think the most important person besides Will was Abigail Hobbs, Lecter and Graham’s foster daughter.” Magnus looked down as he spoke further. 

“Abigail was injured severely with a laceration to the neck. Died of blood loss and shock in the ambulance to the hospital.” 

“Oh god.” Emma whispers, covering her mouth with a hand, the other wrapped tightly around a pillow, hugging it against herself. 

“Will told me a little of the confrontation beforehand, but from what I gathered, I don’t even think he truly knew what caused Dr. Lecter to get upset at him in the first place. He showed up after the FBI were already there, and I think that’s what gave Dr. Lecter the idea that Will betrayed him.” Magnus sighed.

“Besides the fact that Will got pregnant from what was likely only the one time they were together intimately after he had turned, I think that about sums everything up.” Magnus says lowly, shaking his head.

“That and no one knows where Dr. Lecter is now, although guesses and ‘sightings’ say he’s in Europe somewhere.” He says, and Stiles is near speechless.

What. The fuck? Like, what the actual fuck.

“Wait,” Emma growls, “He’s carrying?” pretty much the same time Simon says, “He’s gregnant?!” 

Stiles gives Simon a look before turning to Emma, who looked about ready to tear his pillow apart.

“Hey, easy on the pillow there, no need to go postal. I’m finding this guy first chance I get, and possibly beating him over the head to knock some sense into him before dragging him by the ear back here.” Stiles says angrily, jumping up and narrowly avoiding running into the coffee table before plopping himself down next to to her.

Snatching the pillow from her, he hugs it to his chest, letting her squeeze him and the pillow tightly instead of ripping his pillow to shreds. 

Meh, a bear hug over an extra trip to the store? Fair enough, in Stiles’ opinion.

“I’ll send word to all the European High Warlocks I’m on good terms with, and I’m sure Mycroft alone would probably have something for you by the end of the week.” Magnus says, before Stiles realizes something. 

“Oh!” He says, thinking, “I should probably ask Will to see John, if he’s alright with it. John’s got enough general pediatrics knowledge, and I can ask my Dad too, if there’s anything else we might need. He could talk with Melissa as well, if we needed more help.”

“I think we know enough parents and medical personnel to have Will and his babies safe for a while.” Magnus says assuringly.

“Babies? As in plural?” Simon asks, and Magnus nods with a smile. 

“Yes. Twins, I believe Will said.” Magnus responds, and Stiles can’t help but smile at that. 

Hopefully, this wasn’t going to bring up the ‘baby conversation’ with more of the couples in his life than necessary, but Stiles knew otherwise. 

Bunch of drama queens, the whole lot of them.

“Alright. I should probably text Tony that we have a new roommate, I think that’s something he’d want to know before he came home.” Emma says, who releases Stiles and heads up to her room for her phone.

Stiles sighs.

“Well, I’ll be off. I’ll contact High Warlock Capire, along with a few others. Holmes first, though.” Magnus says, before heading towards the door.

“See ya Magnus!” Stiles calls, sitting still. Simon seemed to want to talk, so he waited. 

“Goodbye Stiles!” Magnus yells, before the front door shuts.

Stiles sat, waiting for Simon to organize his thoughts into actual questions.

“Is his mate going to stay here with Will, once you find him?” Simon finally asks quietly, and Stiles shakes his head.

“I know Will needs somewhere to stay for now, but I don’t know how his mate is going to react to being told he’s now an irresponsible and irrational father. Not well, I’d guess. But if it goes well- that’s a BIG if- we’ll see where we go from there.” Stiles says, and Simon nods.

Hopefully, it won’t go to all Hell, but if nothing else, maybe he can convince Lucifer to try to terrorize a seemingly godless creature. 

We’ll see, Stiles thinks.

We’ll see.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will meets the rest of his roommates.

Will wakes slowly, filtering in his surroundings.

It was quiet, although if he focused, he could hear voices talking downstairs. 

His body ached less than before, and his headache was nearly gone. Although, he found what had likely awakened him- the faint scent of something delicious cooking downstairs.

For some reason, it made him hungrier than he’d been in a while, and so Will got up, pressing a hand to his stomach reassuringly.

He took off his jacket and put on a blue flannel over his t-shirt, grabbing his glasses from beside the bed.

He remembered the young man- Stiles?- warning him that others would be overbearing.

Not that he cared much, at this point. Will had heard all there was to be said and could care less about what these people might have to say about him.

 

Downstairs, Will followed the noises and smells towards the kitchen, finding Stiles standing over several dishes and pans.

He was looking out towards another room, gesturing his hand as he spoke. 

“Yeah, but if you do end up choosing to do online courses, don’t overload yourself with classes. Then you’d be up at all hours of the day just trying to finish your schoolwork and you have no free time at all, and there goes our movie marathon on weekends.” He says, turning towards the fridge, but stopping when he saw Will just standing there.

He smiles, waving a hand before digging into the fridge and pulling out a covered bowl. 

“Hey! Good to see you up, dinner should be done in a few.” He says, point towards the other room. “Feel free to find a seat, and don’t be afraid to snap if someone’s getting too in your space, it happens a lot.” 

Will says, “Thank you.” Before going through to where Stiles had pointed. 

In the next room, there were three people seated around a large dining table, talking with one another. 

The older gentleman stood and pulled a chair out from beside him, and gestured a hand for Will to sit. The two others look over at him but keep talking with each other.

So Will takes the seat.

The man offers his hand once Will looks up again, and Will shakes it briefly. 

“Anthony Bowman, but just call me Tony.” The man says, and turns to look at the others across the table from them.

“Mr. Chatterbox over there is Simon,” Tony points to the younger man with scruffy black hair and a graphic tee that said ‘Keep calm and Bite Me’. Will figured it was some reference, since the words were under a smiley face with fangs. 

“And the lovely Miss Emma, of course. Don’ worry about it none, We're all pleased to meet ya.” Tony says warmly, and the young woman grins. 

Will introduces himself to what he presumes to be the rest of the people in the household. 

“Will.” He says simply, and Tony nods. 

“Well, welcome, Will. I’m happy to say, we all are mighty glad you came to stay with us here.”

“Yes, and Stiles is simply waiting for your word to smother you in attention and care, the nut. As if looking after Simon and himself is easy.” Emma says snarkily. 

“I don’t need-” Will starts, but Emma waves a hand and interrupts him.

“We know you don’t want help, but neither did any of us, and Stiles can say with certainty that we all needed it. I can tell you do, you are trying to look after multiple people at once, you certainly deserve some help.” She says, and Will sits in quiet silence. 

Magnus was right, then, about this being a better choice for him.

The look of steadfast confidence and compassion as Emma spoke, and Will knew that Stiles was not someone you would stand against, not if you had a single cell in your brain. 

Will almost dared to hope for some peace for once in his life.

Almost. 

 

“Alright everyone, dinner!” Stiles says, sweeping into the dining room with several plates of food. 

Roasted vegetables, rolls, and mashed potatoes. The next time brought out two trays of meat, both of steak. With the last time, Stiles brought out plates, utensils, and a glass of red- something, which he set in front of Simon.

The others waited until Stiles had sat before looking to the plates of food in front of them. 

“Blue plate has steak, grey plate has long pig.” He says coolly, and Will snaps is head in his direction. 

The others started to dig in, avoiding the grey plate, but Will stares at him in shock. 

He… what? 

“...You?” He asks weakly, his voice cracking. Did Stiles…?

Stiles smirks, grabbing a roll and buttering it.

“A friend of mine is a Trickster, on top of other things. He detests abusers and killers, above all else. Don’t worry, no one was in question of morals.” He says, but frowns when Will makes no movements.

“Will, it’s likely that your kids are Ravenstag- if your going to continue to ignore yourself, in this matter. It’s as essential to your diet as coffee is to mine, and blood to Simon’s.” Stiles says, gesturing to where Simon is currently his best to not guzzle his- blood, apparently. White fangs rest around the rim of his glass, and he looks up with his pupils dilated, a small smile on his face. 

Will hesitantly plates himself some of the people steak, wondering strangely if this is what it would have been like. To have known, and not be afraid of who he was dining with. 

A hand, clenching his heart painfully at the thought. Not Hannibal’s as he’d thought it might be, although every ounce of his pain could be traced to him, surely.

He realizes his hunger as the first bite passes his lips, and Will does all he can to not inhale his food as fast as he could. All this time, and he’d found what caused his bone deep hunger. 

 

Lack of people steak in his diet, apparently. 

Everyone ate mostly in silence, but when the fervor of eating died down, Stiles spoke up again.

“I know that you’ve probably been poked, prodded, and dragged to doctor’s offices far too many times in your life, but if you wouldn’t be against it, I’ve spoken with a friend of mine, and he says he would be willing to make sure you and the babies are doing okay.” He says softly, and Will looks up.

Genuine concern finds Will wanting to agree to it, but he doesn’t say anything at first. 

“Does he know?” Will finds himself asking instead, and Stiles nods with a smirk.

“About you being a dude? Or about the Supernatural?” Stiles asks, and Will slowly nods.

“Both.”

“Yeah,” Stiles says, “John knows enough about both of those. He’s known about the Supernatural for a year or so now, and he’s had a few Supernatural patients. He’s a good guy too, a good friend to me.” He snorts at a passing thought. “Although not as good a friend as he is to Sherlock, but that’s a whole different story.” 

“Alright.” Will says, and Stiles grins.

“Great. I’ll let him know and figure out a time.” He says. “In the meantime, I have a call to make.” He says, excusing himself from the table, taking his dishes into the kitchen.

“So, kids huh? That ought to be fun.” Tony says, and Will watches Simon grin at Emma. 

“I told you, it’s gregnant.” Simon says, and Emma giggles.

“PrEGaNanAnT!?!” She screeches, and Simon starts giggling too. 

Tony rolls his eyes at them, shaking his head as he stands and takes his dishes into the kitchen.

“Hey Will, wanna watch an Alien movie Marathon with us?” Emma asks, and Simon grins as he blurs into the kitchen with the rest of the dishes. 

“Oh! Um, I don’t know-” He says, before Simon is back.

“Oh come on, I doubt you’ve seen them. Come watch!” He says excitedly, before going into the living room, spouting off random movie trivia. 

Emma shakes her head fondly before standing up, offering Will a hand. 

With surprisingly more strength than he expected, Emma pulls him up and drags him towards the dark living room, the large TV already playing the commercials as they sit down. 

Will curls up with one of the pillows and a blanket tossed over his feet by Emma, looking up to the screen, contented to stay and watch. Tony wanders in and sits on the opposite end of the couch, a small smile on his face and a huge bowl of popcorn on his lap.

Perhaps, for once, Will could do with some normality in his life, he thinks. 

God knows he could do with some.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles has a conversation with Mycroft about his new roommate.

Stiles sits with his phone at his desk, waiting for Mycroft to pick up. After a few more seconds of the phone ringing, he does. 

“Yes, this is Holmes. Is there something I may help you with?” Mycroft says droningly, and Stiles wants to sigh.

Right, time change was definitely a thing. 

“Hey Mycroft, it’s Stiles. I have something that I need your help with.” Stiles says. “Has Magnus told you yet, about what’s been going on over here?” Stiles asks. 

“Yes, I believe so, by way of other several High Warlocks. Fonce, Pravda, and Niebo have all contacted me, and Fonce informed me that he intended to contact at least Lagoa, perhaps others. This situation is a welcome distraction from the tedium for most, I think. Would you be willing to tell me more about what is going on? Anthea’s already gone out to collect information, but they haven’t returned as of yet.” Mycroft says, and Stiles agrees. 

“A Ravenstag, the one claiming territory in Maryland and the surrounding areas, courted a mate, turned him, got him pregnant, and then left him for dead. From what Will told Magnus, Florence seems like a pretty likely location, based on the history of this particular Ravenstag.” 

Silence followed his statement for several seconds. 

“That is… I can see why so many High Warlocks are intrigued, if not outright interested.” Mycroft says, shock evident in his voice. “I will certainly look into it. In fact, I’ll talk with High Warlock Capire, in Rome. If anyone is going to find anything, Cassianus will be in the immediate area, and he would certainly want to know about this.” Mycroft says. 

Stiles sighs in relief. “That’s great. Look, I’ll be bringing Will around to see John once I talk to him about looking Will over, and we could talk more, once we know more about this then.”

“Alright, that’s fine. I’ll speak with you in a few days then.”

Stiles left John an email, stating about Will’s health and condition visually, and asking him to email back in the morning. 

 

Downstairs, Stiles finds Will seated amongst the others, watching the Nostromo crew exploring the wishbone ship as Simon whispers along the dialogue. 

Sitting between Will and Tony, Stiles grabs a handful of popcorn from Tony and watches along with them, smiling to himself. 

His home was a little fuller, and another listless soul was resting, if only for now.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A trip to John and Sherlock's flat.

A few days later, and Stiles was waiting with Will for Mycroft to open a portal for them to John and Sherlock’s flat. 

When a portal opened, Stiles gently ushered Will through and out the other side, John waiting in the flat with a small smile.

“Hello Stiles,” John says, before turning to Will. “You must be Will.” He says and offers his hand. “I’m John Watson.” 

Will slowly takes the proffered hand and shakes it, John not discouraged by Will not looking up even once during the greeting.

Mycroft comes out of the kitchen towards them with a small scowl on his face, Sherlock following smugly behind. 

Sherlock flops down into his chair, ignoring everyone else in the room.

Like a smug cat, but more human shaped. 

“Come over here and take a seat please, I have just a few questions for you before we do anything else, alright?” John asks, leading Will over to the couch. Mycroft looks to Stiles before heading back to the kitchen, gesturing for Stiles to follow.

 

To his surprise, they were not alone in the kitchen, a man Stiles recognized from the Council meeting last year standing there waiting. 

“New York Senior Warlock Stilinski, this is Rome’s High Warlock, Cassianus Capire. Cassianus, this is Stiles. He and Magnus were the ones who started this… manhunt.” Mycroft says, and Stiles shakes hands with him.

“Cassianus is fine, this isn’t a formal meeting,” Cassianus says calmly. “Mycroft has explained what is going on, and I want to state my approval for this search. I have no interest in Lecter remaining in Italy any longer than it’s necessary to find him.” Cassianus says, disdain clear in his voice. “His actions have proven violent in the past, and I want no part of that within the area that I offer protection to. I’ve found no disappearances, thankfully, but that doesn’t mean much.” 

Mycroft nods. “Unfortunately so. The FBI have only dozens of the no doubt many more deaths accounted to him, he simply might be covering his tracks better now.” 

Stiles scoffs. “Yeah, now that he’s no longer courting. A lot of Ravenstags are caught that way. It’s much easier to find someone who wants to be found, although it usually attracts the wrong attention.”

“Indeed,” Mycroft says, “that’s true. It’s likely how Lecter would have been caught if he had not for blamed Will for the murders instead.”

And that was another thing about Lecter that Stiles did not like. Was it even worth it to be looking for this guy? Will seemed heartbroken, yes, but it did little to downplay what Lecter did to him in the first place. 

“Not much, but I have a place to start. I have a contact in MI6 who is an expert in surveillance type tracking. I intend to call in a favor and confirm Lecter’s presence in Florence, perhaps even get him tracked until we decide to take action.” Mycroft says.

“Contact me when you do, my Senior aide is just as interested as I and will observe from a distance once we have a location. A residence would be best if you can get it.” Cassianus says cooly, and Mycroft nods.

“Of course. Both of you will be informed immediately.” He says, before turning to watch as John comes into the kitchen, leaning against the counter with a sigh. 

“Well?” Mycroft asks. John looks up in question. “You left him with Sherlock, didn’t you.” 

John nods. “They’re getting along just fine Mycroft, it’s fine.” He assures with a wave of his hand before turning to Stiles. “I know a few nutrient supplements he’s going to need, along with a higher recommendation for red meats than during a human pregnancy. If at all possible, at least one meal per day.” John says, ticking off fingers. “He needs to take it as easy as possible and rest often. This is heavy stress upon his body. The rapid change and sudden pregnancy are similar to pregnancy right after puberty, which often can be high stress.” John tells Stiles, and he nods.

“Okay. I’ll talk to Gabriel about the diet thing, I think he’s going to want to meet the person he’s providing those meals for. I am willing to make sure he gets what he needs.” Stiles says soothingly, and John nods sharply.

“See to it. I would recommend trying to find an obstetrician who’s in the Downworld, or at least knows. I am more than willing to help, but I’m no specialist, and Will needs someone who knows what they are doing.” John says, and Stiles nods. 

 

Sherlock decides to interrupt, calling to Mycroft from the sitting room.

“Mycroft! Why is your mobile ringing?” He calls loudly, and Mycroft reaches for his coat pocket, shock on his face, then anger when he finds it empty.

“Why do you have my mobile?!?” He shouts back, striding out of the kitchen.

Stiles looks to John, who rolls his eyes. 

“Half of the time, I don’t even know if I should care anymore.” John says tiredly, following Mycroft out of the kitchen much more leisurely.

Cassianus shrugs. “I’ll take my leave then. I expect to hear more from you both soon.” He says cheerfully, before waving and portalling away, leaving Stiles alone in the kitchen.

 

Out in the sitting room, Stiles finds Mycroft holding the phone on speaker, glaring at Sherlock from across the room, Sherlock glaring back from his chair.

“-I hadn’t expected to hear from you for a while yet, Quinn, are you sure you’re not a seer?” Mycroft says jokingly. 

A snort comes from the phone. “No, just smart enough to know when you’re up to something. What do you need Mycroft?” 

“Nothing much, brother mine, just to find someone.”

Another snort. “Myc, that’s practically my job anyhow.” Some shuffling comes through the speaker. “It’s not anyone who doesn’t want to be found by chance, is it?”  
“You are quite the best at what you do, looking after that agent of yours.” Mycroft says, not answering the question. 

“No need to flatter, Myc, I could have guessed what you wanted anyway. Who and where?” The voice asks, and Mycroft responds. 

“Hannibal Lecter, no doubt under a false I.D,” Mycroft says. “Italy would be my first guess, Japan my second, though I doubt the second one will truly hold anything to find.”

Typing comes from the speaker, and Stiles finally moves from the doorway from the kitchen, sitting by Will on the couch, smiling at Will as he sits.

The voice hums. “Well, I see why you would want to find him. Any other reasons the outstanding amount of deaths he’s wanted for?” He asks, typing continuing. 

“Yes. I’m at Sherlock’s flat, his mate sitting across from me on the couch.” 

The typing pauses for a brief second before continuing again.

“Well, that would do it.” He says. “Alright, running facial recognition within the last week in both places. It might take a bit…” 

Sherlock speaks up. 

“How is that agent anyways? His days since death counter been reset?” He asks lazily. 

“...Twice. And the number counter of items he’s broken/lost is almost two dozen higher too.”

Sherlock chuckles. “Oh indeed? And how is that going for him?”

A huff from the speaker. “Currently not being spoken to, though he is trying. He keeps leaving a mug of tea on my desk.”

A beeping sound brings more typing and an ‘aha!’ from the voice.

“Got him! Your first guess was right, Mycroft, I’ve got over three dozen matches in roughly a six square kilometer radius in Florence, half of them from around one block in particular.” The voice says. “ I’ve got a track on his false I.D. He uses it anywhere, It’ll ping his location for me. Nothing from recently though, the most recent recognition was a cafe, nearly four days ago.”

Mycroft sighs. “Alright. Send me the coordinates of the block area, I’ll be sending in Anthea to see if we can get better detail on this.”

More typing. “Alright. If I see Anthea needs backup, perhaps I can convince James to help if he wants me to speak to him again.”

“I doubt Anthea will be needing help, but please, feel free.” Mycroft says. 

“Alright, I have to go. Here comes James. Goodbye, Myc.” He says, and the call ends.

 

“Who was that Mycroft?” John asks coldly, beating Stiles to the question.

“Our youngest brother, Quinten. He works in MI6 as head of Technology and R&R center.” Mycroft says. 

John gives Sherlock a dirty look.

Stiles stands suddenly, clapping his hands together, then rubbing them. 

“Alright then, Will, what do you say head back?” Offering a hand to Will and helping him stand up.

“Call me soon Mycroft, when Anthea has something for us.” Stiles says quickly, heading out into the hall before summoning a portal, voices raising behind him.

“Interesting bunch.” Will says, before heading through the portal cautiously.

Stiles shakes his head with a smile. 

“You can say that again.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma drags Will and Simon off shopping, and Stiles talks with a few different people.

The bed shifts suddenly, throwing Simon up and waking him abruptly. 

“Gah, what!? Whoos zat!?” He mumbles, trying to fend off the intruder weakly with one arm.

“Wake up! We are going out today!” Emma yells, yanking down the covers. 

“...Mmmm, noo, don’t wann..a.” He says, turning over, tucking his face into his pillow. He didn't want to get up, it felt early still, so it was before noon, at least. His skin would crawl sometimes in the daylight, and he hated the feeling of the wrongness.

Emma huffs, throwing a shirt from across the room into his face. 

“C’mon, I got Will to agree to go out, and I want one normal looking person to fend off the normies.”

Simon snorts tiredly, sitting up and reluctantly tugging on the shirt. 

“What’d you mean?” Simon mutters questioningly, then jerking a hand in front of his face, catches the jeans thrown in the direction of his face. Again.

“You know perfectly well what. It’s not like you normally see a dude that’s almost five months pregnant.” She says and mutters something under breath that even he couldn't hear. 

Simon realizes, quietly, that she had a point. 

“And Stiles made you a raspberry shake to go- he’s gone off to California or something, he said he won’t be back for a day or so.”

Nice! Raspberry was one of his favorites. Gak, bribery. And it was working too. 

“K’ fine, you have me convinced. Where are we going?” He asks her. Emma simply grins and turns towards the door.

Oh no, he knows that look. He jumps up, Emma racing him out the door and down the stairs, barely winning against him.

“I win, go get your Slurpee, Batman!” She says with a cheer. 

Will simply raises a brow, a resigned look on his face as Simon walks by, and Simon gives him a small smile.

 

Will sighs, pulling himself out of the Cruiser, giving himself a moment to balance himself. 

What had convinced him to agree to this outing, he had no idea, but the almost giddy faces of the two teenagers walking with him made him feel- almost normal somehow. 

Nevermind the fact one was a vampire and the other a shifter. Yet of them, Will still managed to be the weird one. 

At almost 20 weeks, few of his clothes still managed to fit, loathe as he was to wear maternal clothes, he doubted much of his own clothing would fit with twins later on. 

Walking with them, Simon beside him, eyes flicking around, clutching the cup that smelled of fruit and the tang of iron-blood, no doubt- to his chest. Emma, critically eyeing the stores as they walked through the mall. 

Will wondered idly what Hannibal’s reaction would be to a mall. Probably suggest something much more- well. 

“Here we are.” Emma says, turning them into a large department store, directing them through towards the maternity section.

Ah, shopping. Torture to endure even greater than bad press- no, don’t think it, the sting of hurt, of betrayal- Will shakes his head, trying to clear his mind.

 

Stiles sighs, swirling the long since cold cup of coffee in his hand. Lily stands beside him, a paper bag in each of her hands. 

“Some blood, and the rest of the little one’s things.” She says, raising each bag as she tells their contents, placing the bags down on the ground. “Do not ask what it took to get them, Raphael has guarded the room himself for periods of time, snapping at anyone who came to talk to him.” She lets out an irritated hiss.

“This would be a lot easier if they both weren’t so stubborn.” Stiles agrees, and Lily rolls her eyes. 

“Yes, but knowing that is not going to help change it. Magnus agreed to help break the bond between the little one and Camille.” She spits out Camille’s name. “It will hurt, but the sooner, the better. Camille has no right to the little one, and she will use him if she can find him.”

Stiles shakes his head. “Not in my house, she won’t. It’s warded to Hell and back, almost literally, and I have several beings a phone call away and willing to help.” Stiles says.

Stiles smirks at the idea that pops into his head.“Wait, I have just the thing.” He says gleefully, pulling out his phone. Lily tilts her head in curiosity, but Stiles raises a finger, telling her to wait for an explanation. She concedes, giving him a pointed look.

“This is Sam Winchester, what can I do for you?” Sam says after picking up, a bit tired sounding. 

“Hey Sam, its Stiles.” Stiles greets.

“Stiles! Hey, what’s up?” Sam asks.

“I actually have something for you guys,” Stiles says.

“Okay, uh, give me a second,” Sam says, leaning back from the phone, but yelling for Dean and Castiel to come and listen. Some shuffling sounds in the background and a muffled voice.

“Okay, you’re on speaker, what’d you need Stiles?” Sam asks again once the noises settle down.

“I got a bit of a Vampire problem that I think you guys could handle,” Stiles tells them.

“What kind of bloodsuckers we talking about here?” Dean asks. 

“Two fanged. An ex-Clan leader to one of the Clans in New York, a Vampire by the name of Camille Belcourt. Been a pain in the ass, and the reason Simon got turned.” Stiles says.

“That’s the kid from the boat, right? Dark hair, dark eyes, in the middle of dying?” Dean says.

“Yeah, that’s Simon. He’s a sweetheart, didn’t deserve getting dragged into the Downworld by his Shadowhunter friend.” Stiles agrees.

“What about this Vampire we seek is different from others?” Castiel asks.

Stiles sighs. “Not much, except she’s going to be hard to find. I bet I can get some hair or something if that’d help.” He says. 

“Yeah, it would. Is this a hunt, or…” Sam asks, trailing off.

“It’s a hunt,” Stiles confirms. “We just need a bit of her blood to end a bond she has with Simon, is all.” 

Stiles’ eyes flick up, and Lily nods in firm agreement. 

“Alright, well I’ll get what I can on her over to you within a day or two, maybe less if I can manage.” 

“Great, I’ll see what we can find before then. See you, Stiles.” Sam says, Dean also saying goodbye in the background. 

Lily nods her head to his phone. “Hunters?” She asks.

Stiles nods. “Yeah, the best. Winchesters and Co.” Lily’s eyes widen. 

“You-” Lily stops. “Why do I ask? You know everyone.” She shakes her head. “I can get these things for you, the hair and such. Camille left much of her things when she waltzed out of the DuMort.” 

“Great, I’ll drop these off for Simon and head off again, I want to check in with Mycroft, it’s been a couple of days since we last spoke,” Stiles says taking the bags. 

“I will send what I find to Magnus, he will no doubt confirm their authenticity if Camille had thought that far ahead.” 

“See ya around, Lily.”

One more stop to make, and the one that would be the longest, Stiles thought to himself.

Oh well. He liked these people anyhow, so he didn’t mind.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Unfortunately, Beacon Hills was rather in need of Stiles expertise fixing things, again.

Emma was finishing her breakfast when Stiles thuds down the stairs, and she looks up as Stiles walks in, heading directly for the kitchen.

“Heyo, Stiles. What’s up?” Emma asks loudly, Stiles poking his head out of the doorway. 

“Not much.” He mutters, going back into the kitchen, cabinets opening and the coffee machine sputtering to life. 

Emma waits for Stiles to finish, coming out of the kitchen, coffee mug in hand a minute later, sitting with a sigh across from her. 

Stiles sips his coffee for a few moments before speaking.

“I’m going to have to go again, more work stuff came up.” He says, and Emma tilts her head. 

“Is that bad?” She asks. 

He shakes his head. “Not normally, no, but Chris called me just a little bit ago,” He says. “Something’s up with Beacon Hills. The Hale Pack is on edge, and won’t say anything to Chris or Peter about what’s going on, and it’s bothering Chris.” He says.

Emma nods her head. “That… doesn’t sound good.” She agrees. “And Peter doesn’t know what is wrong either?” She asks.

She had met Peter and Chris a couple of times, Peter a few more times than Chris. They were interesting, and she thought their personalities balanced each other out well. 

Peter was a bit all over the place and had a dark sense of humor that Emma herself had, and his wolf didn’t make her nervous like other wolf shifters tended to do. Chris was a bit more serious than Peter, but was kind, for a hunter. Good sensibilities. 

She liked them both, and considered them part of the Sleuth, due to their relationship with Stiles. Like uncles, sort of. Stiles was strangely unaware of his ability to act as a Boar- as an Alpha. Leader of their little group.

Stiles shook his head, drawing her out of her thoughts. 

“Mmm, no, and Peter had been asking around too. Isaac doesn’t know, so either Hale is being overly cautious with what he does know, or that they don’t really know either,” he says. “I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s the latter of the two.” He huffs, staring out of the window to the patio broodingly. 

“Ah, I know that look. Don’t like this Hale guy, do you?” She says. Stiles doesn’t respond for a few moments. 

“Liked him too much, once. Ended that alongside all my other ‘friendships’ at the time.” He mutters darkly, putting friendship in air quotation marks. 

Emma winces. “Sounds like you’re going to be having the time of your life over there.” She says sarcastically. 

“Absolutely,” He agrees with just as much sarcasm, “I love fending off large, brutish puppies on four and a half hours of sleep.” 

“Yeah, good luck with that,” She says sincerely. “I would offer to come with, but I agreed to go check out the area around campus with Simon today, have a good look around and get a feel for the area.” She tells him. 

Stiles smiles softly. “I would rather join you guys if I could. I’m glad he’s taking that step. Thanks for offering to go with him.” 

Emma grins, shoving the rest of her omelet in her mouth with her fork. “Hey, I know how this is important for him, I’m not gonna bail on him now. He’s like the annoying older brother I never knew I needed.” She says. 

Stiles shakes his head. “Alright, I better get going if I’m gonna stay ahead of the weather.” He says, getting up and walking into the kitchen.

“You’re a nerd!” Emma shouts to him, and he grins as he walks back out and into the hall with a travel mug of coffee. 

“Hah, like you get to say you’re not!” He shouts back. 

Emma just grins, listening as the front door slams a few seconds later. 

 

Stiles knocks on Chris’s door and blanks his face when Allison swings open the door, not looking at her as she starts to speak.

“What can I…” She stops, realizing who it is at the door with shock. “Stiles?” She asks in disbelief. “What are you doing here?” She asks but continues before Stiles has a chance to speak. “Oh my God, Scott has been so-” she says, and Stiles cuts her off, his irritation growing. 

“I’m here to talk to Chris, Allison. He here?” He asks, and She stares in shock, before nodding yes. 

He sidesteps Allison, walking into the house. 

“Chris! Yo!” He shouts, and Chris steps out from what looks like a kitchen area. 

“Stiles! Hey, you got here quick.” He says, and Stiles doesn’t mind too much when Chris hugs him. Chris realizes what he did with a surprised look on his face.

“Sorry,” He says apologetically, “Peter’s-” 

“Real big on hugs, I know.” He interrupts with a wave of his hand. “You're fine, Chris. I didn’t mind.”

“Well,” Chris says slowly, watching as Allison enters the room, “Peter’s not back yet, but he went to set up a meeting on neutral ground for us.”

“Wonderful,” Stiles says, clapping his hands together. “I think I’m going to go visit my Dad at the Station, see how he’s been. Just call me when Peter gets back, I’ll head on over to wherever we’re going to get this thing started.” He says, walking past Allison, waving Chris goodbye. 

 

Driving to the Station, Stiles thinks to himself that what was next to come was going to be annoying as, well, Hell, he guessed. At least, that was what he’d heard from Lucifer.

If Allison’s reaction to him reappearing was to question his motives on ‘leaving for so long’, and not Scott’s shitty friendship skills, then oh boy, was this going to be fun.

Well, at least he might be able to spook Erica and Boyd again. It was rather amusing, afterward, thinking back on when he used one of the basic offense spells Magnus had taught him to keep Erica from trying anything stupid. Their reaction was greater than his action, he thought amusedly. 

 

Pulling up to the station, he hops out of his cab, locking his door and turning on the wards.

Wouldn’t want any of the Hale Pack to try anything funny. In fact, he’d parked so he could see if they did, at least from his Dad’s office. He snickered at the thought of anyone trying to get past Magnus’ defense wards. 

Jordan Parrish was at the front desk, a newer Deputy his Dad had talked about a few months ago during one of their chats. 

He walks past, waiting to see if the new Deputy knew enough to not try to stop him entering his Dad’s office. He doesn’t, and Stiles knocks on the door, opening it to find his Dad doing some paperwork.

“Parrish, for the last time, what-” His Dad stops when he looks up. “Stiles!” He greets and Stiles meets his Dad halfway around the desk for a hug.

“Hey, Dad.” Stiles greets, and his Dad sits back down.

“What’s up kiddo?” He asks, leaning back in his chair. “We talked just a few days ago. What are you doing here in town?”

Stiles lets out a puff of air. “Same reason as last time, something’s up with the Hale Pack, and they don’t know how to deal with it themselves. Chris called to ask me to come and work my magic.” He says. He thinks for a moment. “Pun intended.” 

His Dad shakes his head with a smile, before letting his smile fade. 

“Alright, tell me what’s up this time, I wanna know if I’m going to be getting any phone calls about this.” His Dad says.

So Stiles settles against the wall next to the window and proceeds to tell him what he knows. 

If it just so happens to be the best vantage point to see his truck, well, his Dad didn't need to know that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone guess what Emma is? And congrats if you caught the movie reference! I’d love to hear from you all on your guesses!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles confronts the Hale Pack with Chris and Peter about what's been happening in Beacon Hills.

The meeting place that Peter texted Stiles was, unsurprisingly, an abandoned old building in the downtown area of Beacon Hills.

Parking his truck across the street, he noted that Derek’s Camaro, Lydia’s Prius, Chris’ SUV, and the Toyota that Peter often drove were all parked along the street as well. 

Making his way inside, fingers itching to smooth over his dagger in a familiar gesture of reassurance, he finds Chris and Peter standing together near the frontish doors, and pretty much all of the Hale Pack standing opposite of them.

Hale, of course, Boyd and Erica, Allison and Scott, Isaac, Lydia and Jackson, and another Wolf that Stiles doesn’t know, though she looks familiar, in a way. 

Stiles nods at Chris, standing shoulder to shoulder with Peter as he talks to him.

“All right, I’m here. Let’s start, shall we?” He says, turning a little to look over at Chris. “Chris Argent, you officiated a concern statement about the Hale Pack’s recent behavior. Anything, in particular, you want to bring up, or is this a general concern statement?” He asks.

Chris nods to him. “Yes, Senior Warlock Stilinski, there is.” He looks over to Hale.

“Derek, I know there’s something going on. Something your Pack isn’t able to handle, and I want to know what’s going on. You’ve kept us out of the loop long enough.”

Hale opens his mouth to speak, but Peter coughs, and all eyes go to him.

“Yes, about that,” Peter says. 

Stiles looks to him with a questioning look. Peter gives the barest hint of a smirk, and Stiles nods.

Peter knows what’s wrong, and plans to share in front of the Hale Pack. Something Hale probably has been avoiding. 

Excellent.

“The Wolf Council has been… Concerned, to say the least, about what has been going on in Beacon Hills. The scents of several Alphas- what’s been bothering the Pack- have been left around Beacon Hills for a couple of months now.” He says, giving Hale a look. “What Hale has been refusing to acknowledge is that the Council is… doubting his ability as a competent Alpha.” 

Several voices begin to speak at once, a jumble of disagreement and outrage, Hale glaring silently at Peter, and Stiles raises his hand in a gesture for silence. All comply, except the unnamed she Wolf.

“Derek is doing his best, Peter, that can’t be the reason they’re here.” She spits out. Hisses, really. 

Stiles tilts his head in consideration. The Alpha Pack was no small matter. If they were here in Beacon Hills, the Council of Wolves indeed had some serious concerns about the leadership of the Hale Pack. 

Not something he could really interfere with, but he’d see where this meeting went anyways.

“And why do you say that, Beta…” Stiles asks, pausing at her name. 

“Cora. Cora Hale.” She says, a hint of a growl in her voice. 

Ah. That would explain why she looked familiar. The only other living Hale.

Stiles looks at her. “What makes you say that, Beta Hale? The Council’s not to be taken lightly, and decisions like these are not made easily. Thought and consideration are taken before sending any sort of representation from the Council.”

“Mom was a part of the Council, they wouldn’t be questioning our Pack.” She states as if her word was law. 

Well, it’s unfortunate for her that Stiles was trained by a Downworlder lawyer, wasn’t it? He smirks.

“Yes, but your brother is not Talia Hale, and neither are you, for that matter,” He says, “And your brother is not a member of the Council, nor did he receive formal- or informal, for that matter- training about being an Alpha,” Stiles says, turning to look around at the others gathered around her.  
“And while your brother was not responsible for the turning of Betas Whittemore or McCall, he was responsible for Betas Lahey, Reyes, and Boyd.” He states, looking between the Betas in mention. Stiles snaps his eyes back to Beta Hale. “More than half his Wolves, no? And the training he gives them is… insufficient.” Stiles drawls. 

He snorts. “I’ve seen a Warlock give a Vampire more efficient training than your brother gives his Pack, and those aren’t even close to the same species.” 

Which was technically true, although Raphael wasn’t being anywhere near a good leader right now either, his point was still made. 

“And what gives you the right to come in here and say this?” Cora growls, and Isaac’s hands twitch. Stiles eyes him out of the corner of his field of view, tapping his fingers to his thigh. 

Isaac was clearly fed up with Stiles’ suggestions to stay with the Hale Pack, and Stiles was waiting for the text saying he wanted to move in. Stiles didn’t think it might be in person, but whatever. 

Stiles focuses back to Beta Hale. “The right of my title,” He says lowly, voice raising a little in volume as he speaks. “As Senior Warlock of this region of the Americas. As the right of my past, as former Pack adjacent. As the right of the leader of not only of my Clan but my Sleuth, my Pack.” He growls back, and he sees the way that several of the Hale Pack step back from him, Isaac moving closer, stepping behind him and Peter, standing defiantly away from Hale, chin, and eyes raised to glare back. 

“I have every right, Beta Hale, as the leader of my own Pack. No Council or Clan has dared question me, and I’m not even a Wolf, not a shifter of any kind. I am respected for my actions, your brother is doubted for his. You better believe it that the Alpha Pack is here, Beta,” He huffs, “No one is going to let you think otherwise when Alpha Deucalion tears this Pack from your brother and replaces him with an Alpha who actually deserves a Pack.” He says, tone final.

Utter silence, the only sound faint breathing and the cars passing by outside.

He shakes his head with a sigh. “There’s nothing you can do, except hope that Alpha Deucalion chooses to make the process as painless as possible.” He nods to Chris. “There’s nothing either of us can do, Chris, at this point there’s nothing to do but wait.”

Stiles looks to Isaac, gently touching his upper arm. “You sure?” He asks. 

He hardly needed to ask.

Isaac nods, not looking at him, but instead over his shoulder, to Hale. “I’m damn sure. I’ve been waiting over a year for this.” He says, cooly.

Stiles smiles at him, letting the Beta lean against his shoulder.

Peter grins, coming around to Isaac’s other side. “Welcome to the Pack.” He says gleefully, ignoring the other Hales glaring at him.

Chris nods, a resigned look on his face. 

“I hadn’t thought that it had gotten that bad, to have the Alpha Pack here. But you’re right, there’s nothing I can do about it.” He says. 

Allison’s shocked ‘Dad’ had Chris looking up. 

“Allison, you knew about this, at least in part. I gave you every lesson on the Council’s, the etiquette of formalities. There’s nothing we can do! If we interfere, the Hunter Council will send an Inquisitor after us next! A Shadowhunter, Allison, you do not fuck around with matters like these!” He hisses, and Peter nods.

Stiles speaks. “Your father can’t do anything, Allison, and neither can I. He'd be Inquired after if he interferes with this, and you will be too. Your father will be forced to disassociate your name with the Argent family name if you insist on trying to act against the Alpha Pack. Inquisitors are permitted to use lethal force when it's necessary.”

“We can’t just give up on Derek, I mean, he’s not great, but he is trying,” Allison says.

“You can, and you probably will have to. I respect the choices of Alpha Deucalion, and the Council. Don’t fight the matter too much, if they think only a little bit of teaching is necessary, Alpha Hale may very well be allowed to return to Beacon Hills and become Alpha here once more.” Stiles says, nodding to Chris.

“Argent, I bid you goodbye. Emissary Martin, farewell and good luck.” He says to Chris, then Lydia, and then leaves, Peter and Isaac close behind him.

Stiles looks to Peter as the stand around his truck. “You were just waiting to say something, weren’t you?” He asks. Peter grins. 

“Of course, what do you take me for?” He asks. “I spoke with Alpha Kali, who I encountered on accident out on a run one night about a month ago. She was aggressive until I explained I wasn’t from Derek’s Pack, but yours. She calmed a bit after that. Your name does wonders for that sort of thing, apparently.” He explains.

Stiles nods at the explanation, before turning to Isaac. “You have anything you want to stop by and get from the-” He asks, but Isaac shakes his head. 

“Peter told me what he was going to say, so I grabbed my stuff yesterday.” He says sheepishly, and Peter nods.

“Your bag's in my trunk, give me a minute.” He says, walking off towards his car.

Stiles lets Isaac have a few moments to think in silence before speaking again. 

“You good?” He asks softly, and Isaac looks up at him.

Isaac smiles- a bright, genuine smile. “Yeah. Better than good, actually,” He says. “Been wanting to leave here for a while now.” 

Stiles smiles, then chuckles. “And thanks to Peter, you even got a dramatic exit! How nice of him!” He says sarcastically. 

Isaac giggles. “Right?” He says.

Stiles puts an arm around Isaac’s shoulders, letting the Beta be scented to his heart’s content. 

“I hope you like roommates, you’re going to have plenty, besides the ones you know already,” Stiles tells him, and Isaac nods into his shoulder. 

“Alright, here you go cub, pup. See you in a few days, hmm? It’s been a bit since I visited anyways.” Peter says, handing Isaac a duffle bag. 

Stiles unlocks his cab and gestures for Isaac to go and get in. 

“See you then, Peter.” He says, waving as Peter heads back to his car.

Stiles hops up and starts his truck, looking to Isaac, sitting contentedly in the passenger seat, quietly overwhelmed at the smell of Stiles all around. 

Stiles shakes his head, and pulls around, planning to stop by the Station and say goodbye to his Dad before heading out of town again.

Well, that was easier than he thought it was going to be, and no blood was shed, even.

Stiles reminded himself to check the high school registrations in Denver when he gets home.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isaac gets settled in, and Stiles is called to visit London.

Stiles and Isaac arrive at the house late the next day, Peter following them over directly to the house in his own car.

Stiles unlocks the door to the house, calling out as he enters. 

“Yo, anyone home?” Stiles shouts, and faint responses come from upstairs and from the living room.

He ushers Isaac and Peter inside, footsteps thudding closer, Simon and Emma barreling down the stairs and towards them.

Simon and Emma tackle Isaac and his bags to the ground, the three of them laughing as Isaac weakly struggles to wrestle them off him, but happily scenting them both.

“Isaac! Did you come to stay this time?!” Emma asks him excitedly, and Isaac nods with a huge grin to the two of them. 

The three of them had been near inseparable when Isaac had visited during the summer and had gotten up to plenty of things together during his stay.

Stiles shakes his head fondly at the three of them, leaving them and Peter to go check on Will.

 

Will sits in the living room, a small smile on his face, a hand resting on his stomach over his shirt, feet tucked under a blanket. He looks up as Stiles enters the room, his glasses folded on the coffee table, looking to his face for a few seconds before looking back down at the floor.

Stiles sits down on the other end of the couch across from him.

“You okay?” He asks softly, and Will nods, his smile growing a touch wider. 

“I felt something today.” He says softly, rubbing his stomach with small circles. “I asked John and he said one of them just had hiccups.” He chuckles softly.

Will looks up to him again, briefly. “Seems you have a habit of collecting strays, I hear.” He says, head tilted, listening to the sounds from the hallway.

Stiles snorts. “Yeah, I think I do. Least most of ‘em can be house trained.” The indignant shout from the hallway makes him chuckle.

Will looks almost distant, and Stiles remembers that Will has a fondness for dogs. The look says more an old wound than a fond memory though, and Stiles wonders what else had happened in Will’s already pretty shit sounding life. 

Stiles smiles solemnly at him, before asking, “Want some tea? I think I’m gonna make some.” 

Will nods. “Yeah.” 

 

Stiles goes to the kitchen and starts the tea kettle, looking down the hall to see Simon, Isaac, and Emma drag a vaguely amused Peter excitedly up the stairs.

Stiles leans against the counter, thinking about Will’s reaction. He’d have to ask around, maybe see what he could find about Will. Anything to help with Hannibal or to help Will feel better than just okay for once. Anthea has been following Hannibal off and on again for nearly a month now, with not too much to show for it. 

He sets the tea down next to Will a couple of minutes later, turning around and heading up to his study/workspace. He’d have to see what he could dig up.

 

Stiles was a bit closer, an hour or so later, or so he thought, at least. He'd ended up looking on the website of the deceased journalist, and found a few things, besides horrible tact or respect for privacy. Will had owned a couple of dogs and hadn't gotten them back after his prison stay. Which kinda sucked, actually.

And by a couple, he meant seven or so. But he understood preferring animal to human contact. And somehow it still had managed to end poorly for Will.

 

A phone call broke his focus, and he checked the caller I.D. before answering. It was Mycroft.

“Senior Warlock Stilinski, how can I be of assistance?” He asks cheerfully, heading downstairs to the kitchen. He needed some coffee to continue socializing today. Mycroft didn't call unless it was something he considered important. Usually.

“Amusing. Well, Senior Warlock Stilinski, I have something you can do for me If you don’t mind. See, Sherlock is being childish- as usual, whenever I ask him to do something for me, and Anthea is rather busy following after Hannibal.” 

“Okay then, what’s up?” Stiles asks. The coffee steaming as he listens, leaning against the kitchen counter.

“Demon sightings, apparently. I would already be going to handle it myself, but I am at MI6 to visit Quentin today.”

“Alright. Did you get anything else, or was it an anonymous sighting?”

Mycroft sighs quietly. “Anonymous,” He says, “But if there is a Demon that we should actually be worried about, I know someone in London who would know about it.”

“Alright then, have fun threatening your brother’s coworkers,” Stiles says, then hangs up.

Coffee to go then it was.

His phone buzzes with two addresses and the name of the informant and Stiles goes back upstairs and grabs his Demon kit- salt, holy water, matches, and his dagger and sleeve holster. Straps the holster on and pulls his red jacket over it, picking up his coffee and heading up to Simon’s room.

 

Voices come from the room, he knocks before pushing the door open farther and pokes his head inside. 

Simon, Isaac, Emma were all talking to Peter, who still looked amused as they all talked him through the controls for Minecraft, chattering to each other as they played.

“Nononono, get it! Get it!” Isaac screeches, and Simon laughs at him running from the skeletons on the split screens. 

“Why haven’t you picked up a sword from the chest, even Peter’s already got that figured out already!” Simon replies, gesturing to Peter's character with the controller, and indeed, Peter was fending for himself just fine.

Stiles clears his throat to get their attention. “Hey guys, so Mycroft’s got a thing he wanted me to look into, Demons or something. Might be gone for a bit,” He says, “There’s plenty of leftover burgers still, and there’s stuff for breakfast too.” Stiles looks to Simon.

“Gabe's supposed to be visiting later, don’t forget to say hi.” He tells him. Simon nods in response, turning back to the game, the others turning back too.

Simon disliked it when they talked too much about his dietary habits, though no one in the house cared except him. Stiles respected how Simon felt about it, but he wouldn’t let Simon try and forget to take care of himself. 

“Okay, see you guys when I see ya, I don’t think this should take too long,” Stiles says, waving them goodbye, several shouts goodbye following him out of the room.

He heads out, looking at the addresses again before portaling over to Sherlock and John’s.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can anyone guess who Stiles ends up meeting in London? It has to do with the Demon sighting!


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles heads off to meet with Mycroft's informant, who isn't quite what he expected.

Stiles arrives in the entryway to Sherlock and John’s flat, turning and heading down the stairs, waving at Mrs. Hudson as he walks past her and out onto the street. 

Well, he could bring his truck, but then again, the roads were different in London than- well, anywhere in America, really. A taxi should be fine, with traffic, he could get to the first address in an hour or so.

Probably. London was notorious for bad traffic, according to John.

He waves a hand, using a hint of compulsion magic, and a taxi slows down and pulls over to the curb. 

“39 Broadwick Street, corner of Lexington and Broadwick in Soho, please,” Stiles asks the driver as he gets in, and the taxi driver nods his head.

Thank Go-goodness he had the forethought to make sure he had exchanged some currency in a few countries he might need to go, Stiles thought.

 

The location of the address turned out to be a rather nice, but older looking building, a bookstore on the corner of two streets. Through the window, shelves upon shelves of books were visible.

‘A.Z. Fell and Co. Rare Books’ Stiles read. Perhaps the owner was like Bobby then, collecting knowledge in books and rumors. 

The sign in the window said open, so Stiles went in, doorbell ringing as the door swings shut.

 

Inside, the place was well lit, and smelled of faint hints of tea, paper, and dust, along with something he couldn’t quite place. The old wooden bookshelves and displays were filled to the brim with old tomes and books, copies of books Magnus himself had mentioned in passing, some of the books easily centuries-old or older. 

A couple of comfy looking high backed chairs were placed around the rows of books, only one occupied that he could see. 

Stiles saw a white-haired gentleman with glasses down the row of shelves, and wondered at the sense he got from the older man, the same instinctive feeling he got when he first met Dot, or Magnus, or any number of the Angels and Archangels or Fallen Archangels he had met. Timeless- in a sense.

Immortal.

The older gentleman looked rather as if he stepped out of the nineteenth century, rather than the twenty-first, dressed in a beige three-piece suit, white dress shirt, checkered bowtie, and a pair of round glasses resting on the bridge of his nose, reading a book and seemingly unaware of Stiles’ presence.

Stiles assumed that the gentleman was Mr. Fell, and not the person he was looking for. But perhaps he would know about where Mr. Crowley could be found.

 

He cleared his throat before speaking. “Hello? Mr. Fell? I was wondering if you might be able to help me with something.” He calls over, and the man looks up, surprised.

“Oh! I am terribly sorry, I didn’t hear you come in, have you been waiting long? Yes, I’m Mr. Fell, what might I help you with?” Mr. Fell says, standing and making his way over to where Stiles was standing, tucking his book under his arm.

“Well,” Stiles says, “It’s not a book I’m looking to find, actually. I was wondering if you know a Mr. Anthony J. Crowley, and where I could find him?” Stiles asks. 

Mr. Fell gives him an assessing look, a hint of- fear? Worry?- was in his eyes, and Stiles knew at least that Mr. Fell knew Mr. Crowley. But he wondered what had him worried about someone asking about him.

Mr. Fell opens his mouth to speak, but the doorbell rings and Stiles looks over his shoulder when Mr. Fell does.

A different voice calls out, a man coming around the corner. 

“Halloo, you in here Zira?” The man calls, and Stiles looks at him.

The same sense he got from Mr. Fell came from the man with the red hair and sunglasses, dressed in a black suit- although it was much more modern than Mr. Fell’s. Another immortal, and a dimmer but near-identical feeling as when he met Lucifer. 

Stiles had a feeling that this man- or maybe neither of them were?- was Mr. Crowley. 

Stiles turns around to face him, watching as Mr. Crowley communicates silently with looks to Mr. Fell, then Mr. Crowley gives him a small assessing look as well.

“Mr. Crowley?” Stiles asks. The man looks at him for a few moments before responding, Mr. Fell walking off past the man hurriedly as he speaks.

“Who’s asking?” Mr. Crowley responds, a tone of indifference in his voice. 

A tone that was taken to hide worry, stress, and other emotions. Something Magnus had done on rare occasions when he was hurt emotionally- see his first several rejections by Alec- and Simon does the same thing when anyone brings up Raphael.

“Stiles Stilinski, but please, call me Stiles,” Stiles says, introducing himself. “I was told I could ask you about what Demons you know are here in London if there are any.”

Mr. Crowley stiffens just the tiniest amount, and Stiles has a feeling he knows why Mycroft directed him to speak with Mr. Crowley. 

He didn’t just know about Demons, he was one.

Stiles doubted Mycroft didn’t know what Mr. Crowley was, and so Mycroft trusted Mr. Crowley to an extent. If Mycroft wasn’t worried, then Stiles wasn’t going to be, but how was he going to convince Mr. Crowley that?

Mr. Crowley swallows before speaking. “May I ask why you would think I would know anything of the sort, about,” Mr. Crowley waves his hand around in a gesture, “That sort of thing?”

Stiles hums before deciding. He digs into his pockets and grabs the bag of salt, matches, and the vial of holy water, watching as Mr. Crowley tenses up tightly, before setting them all on the ground, gently kicking them over to him. Pulls out his dagger, before kicking that over too. 

Mr. Crowley nearly jumps as the items roll across the floor before stopping at his feet. “I don’t want to hurt you, Mr. Crowley, or your friend, okay? Look, I’m Senior Warlock of New York, and I just wanted some information. High Warlock Mycroft Holmes said you would know,” He says, Mr. Fell, coming to stand next to Mr. Crowley as he speaks. “If there’s anything dangerous around, and that’s what I want to know.”

“Mycroft Holmes? Isn’t that the one bloke, runnin’ around London and solving crimes and that?” Mr. Crowley asks, still tensed. 

“No, no, that’s his brother dear, I remember both of them!” Mr. Fell says, tense but smiling at his fond memory. “The younger of them came in for several days in a row for months, and sat reading for hours before his brother would come in looking for him, and dragged him off. But that was years ago.” Mr. Fell says quietly, looking at Stiles. 

Stiles looks to him before speaking, “Mr. Fell, I don’t mean harm to you or your friend. I’m even somewhat friends with a Demon, and she’s great, I know she wouldn’t harm anyone she didn’t want to. Maze is a friend of a friend of mine,” He says, and Mr. Crowley’s eyebrows raise. 

“And by Maze, you mean- Mazikeen? Head Torturess, the Devil’s Right Hand? That Maze?!” He asks incredulously. 

Mr. Fell looks a little bit like he might faint.

“Yeah, she’s pretty cool,” Stiles says nonchalantly. 

Mr. Crowley suddenly looks like he might faint as well. 

“Well then, by all means, ask your questions then!” Mr. Crowley says with a jeering scoff.

“Jeez, you're tenser than when I met Gabe,” Stiles says, open his mouth to continue when Mr. Crowley interrupts.

“-Gabe?!? As in, what, the bloody Archangel Gabriel?! Who hasn’t been seen in millennia??!” Mr. Crowley shouts, nearly hysterical.

“Crowley dear, calm yourself!” Mr. Fell says to his near-hysterical friend. “I’m sure this young man has a perfectly good explanation.” 

Stiles looks between the two of them before speaking. “...Yes. I mean, do you want me to list off the beings I know?” Stiles asks, looking at their shocked faces, continuing before either could interrupt, “I know Gabriel- yes, the Archangel-, Maze, Castiel- I believe he’s a Principality?- I’ve met Uriel but he’s a jerk, and uh… Lucifer?” He says sheepishly, and both of them look terrified. “It’s okay though! Lucifer is not, you know, interested in taking over the world or anything. I think his favorite thing to do currently is to bother Detective Decker while she’s working and spoil her daughter, but don’t tell him I said that.” Stiles says with a smile.

“...Who are you? What are you?” Mr. Crowley asks slowly, and Stiles shrugs.

“Warlock Stilinski, and Warlock Stilinski,” Stiles says. “Look, are there any Demons- besides yourself- in London. Any at all?” He asks.

Mr. Crowley shakes his head after putting his hands to his temples for a few moments. “...No other Angels, either.” He mutters, and Mr. Fell nods once in agreement.

Stiles smiles. “Great! That’s all I need to know!” He says, summoning a pen from his workroom desk, along with a piece of paper. “Look,” Stiles says, writing his phone number of the paper, “If you ever need anything, or want to know something about my friends, I’d be willing to share pretty much anything, yeah? Just give me a call.” He says and hands them the paper, which Mr. Fell cautiously takes.

Stiles walks around them, heading towards the front door, only to stop when he notices the wards that lock anything in or out. 

He turns and calls out, “Could you disable the wards please?” He asks, and Mr. Fell steps around the corner. 

“Yes, yes, pardon me,” Mr. Fell says. He waves a hand and the wards all turn off at once. “I was rather worried you were up to no good, though Crowley is still suspicious, poor boy.” Mr. Fell says, chuckling nervously.

Stiles tilts his head in curiosity. “Would you find it rude if I asked what both your real names are?” 

Mr. Fell stands in silent contemplation for a few moments, fidgeting a little before speaking. 

“I am Aziraphale, little one, and my dear friend is Crowley.” He says softly. 

Stiles smiles widely at him. “Well, Aziraphale, it was a surprise, but it was a pleasure to meet you and Crowley both.” He says, twisting his hand and teleporting his dagger into his palm. 

A telling yelp comes from behind the shelves, and Stiles raises a hand at Aziraphale, who looks instantly worried, ready to turn and go after his friend. 

Crowley comes around the corner of the bookshelves, clearly squinting at him behind the sunglasses, which have slid down his nose a touch to reveal the edges of presumably bright yellow-orange eyes. He pushes the sunglasses back up when he notices where Stiles was looking. 

“That was not amusing,” Crowley tells him, and Stiles looks down at the blade of the dagger, clear of blood like Stiles suspected. He was spooked when it teleported then, and Aziraphale relaxes when he sees the bloodless dagger.

“Wouldn’t have hurt you anyways, its keyed to my magical signature, doesn’t work that well when other people try to wield it,” Stiles tells him, and Crowley scoffs. “Okay then, I’m leaving now, see ya. You’ve got cool eyes, Crowley, and I like your library Aziraphale. Bye now.” He says with a wave. 

Both of the beings wave goodbye back.

 

Well, that went well, and Stiles had met more beings, both of which were kinda nice, if just shocked by his- well, everything- he guessed. 

The Demon sighting must have just been someone seeing Crowley out someplace, so that was solved. 

He’d tell Mycroft, but he wanted to go home and sleep. 

Tomorrow then.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what'd you think? I love hearing from you all!


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles birthday is soon approaching, and Magnus and Peter plan a surprise.

Magnus opens his mouth to reply to Jace’s comment but is interrupted by his phone ringing in his pocket. 

He smiles calmly before looking up at Alexander and the others in the room. “Would you excuse me for a moment? I should take this call.” He says with a flick of his hand, before stepping into the hallway of the Institute. 

“Peter, what a surprise!” Magnus says, answering his phone. He notices Alexander walking towards him in the hall, concern written on his face. “Any reason, in particular, I’m hearing from you? Not that that is a bad thing, just-”

“Surprising?” Peter asks with amusement in his voice. “I’ve heard.” 

Magnus waves a hand at Alexander, offering him a soothing smile. Alexander relaxes, just a bit.

“Well, I had thought it was about we arrange something to surprise our young friend,” Peter tells him. “It’s rather close to his birthday, and we do have quite a few more people this year who wouldn’t mind celebrating Stiles’ coming of age.” 

Magnus blinks. Oh! Thank God for Peter, he would have forgotten about it until the last second.

He clears his throat, then speaks. “Yes, do you have anything in mind?” He asks, thinking about what he could get Stiles top last year’s gift. Not much, he thinks. 

“Of course! What do you take me for?” Peter asks, scoffing. “Last years was good, but Stiles has quite a few more friends this year. I could send you a list of people to contact about coming, but I think there will be around… hmm, twenty or so at most?” He says.

Magnus thinks in silence for about a minute or so before speaking again. “Do you think you could get Stiles out of the house for a couple of hours beforehand? I can handle all of the rest if you can manage that.” He says. 

Peter chuckles. “That’s it? A couple of hours? If I get Emma in on it, we could be gone half of the day, that girl can make hours pass in minutes in even the most boring department store.” He says, his grin clear in his voice.

Magnus smirks. “Well then, my furry friend, I think we have ourselves a plan, don’t you?” He says. 

“See you soon my friend, I’ll talk with Emma about it and we’ll work on convincing Stiles,” Peter tells him, then hangs up.

Magnus puts his phone in his pocket, Alexander looking at him questioningly. 

“Something come up? I’d rather be elsewhere, at the moment.” Alexander says. Clearly, the argument Jace and Clary had been having about nothing, in particular, was just as utterly boring to Alexander as it had been to him.

“Not unless you want to help me coordinate a surprise party for our dear friend Stiles, otherwise no, nothing has come up.” He tells Alexander. 

Alexander almost sighs in relief. “At this point, I’ll take it, they’ve been at it for hours now and I don’t know how much more I could take.” He says, taking Magnus’ arm and guiding him towards the entryway. 

Magnus smiles softly, wrapping his arm around Alexander’s. 

 

It had taken many calls and callbacks to know exactly who was coming, who intended to bring gifts, and who was not going to be able to make it. 

 

Mycroft, of course, declined, as had Sherlock initially, but John had called and informed Magnus that both he and Sherlock were coming. Anthea wouldn’t be able to make it either, though both Mycroft and Anthea expressed regret in having to miss it, Mycroft planning on sending his gift along with John.

He left what Stiles’ roommates were getting for Stiles up to them, but informed them of the surprise, ringing the promise that it would stay a surprise out of Simon and Isaac.

Will was probably least thrilled about it but promised to visit for a few minutes, at least. 

Stiles’ father was delighted and said he’d already planned to take a couple of days off to come and visit Stiles. 

Sam and Gabriel had both agreed and planned to bring gifts and to drag both of their respective siblings along with them.

Lucifer agreed as well, planning in so few words to ‘kidnap Detective Decker for a nice break from working’ and maybe bring Mazikeen too.

Ragnor and Dot had both declined but asked that he sent their best wishes to Stiles. 

And Alexander had agreed to come as his plus one, though Magnus had yet to decide what he would bring. A book, perhaps? Stiles was always eager to expand his collection of books. 

But which one? Which one could he get him…

 

Peter checks his phone one more time- Magnus sending him a text about finishing up preparing the food and directing guests- before tucking the phone in his pocket, watching as Emma attempted to engage Stiles in clothes shopping. She had already dragged them along for what she had wanted to get, including something she had bought and refused to show either of them from a few stores ago.

“C’ mon Stiles, what do you wear that’s not either- a) a graphic tee, b) flannel, or c) a pair of jeans? Or even d) all of the above?” She asks, holding up a plain, black t-shirt. 

“Hey!” Stiles says indignantly. “I wear other things!” 

Emma frowns. “Your red jacket does not count because you are usually wearing one or all of those things under your jacket, Stiles, and let me tell you, flannel usually clashes really bad with it. Trust me, it does not look at all professional.” She says with a shake of her head. 

“People hire me for my skills, not how I look,” Stiles says to her. Emma just gives him a look. 

“And people ask you back if they don’t think you remind them of a lumberjack,” She says. “Except for the Winchesters, but they don’t count.”

“Peter, c’ mon,” Stiles says to him, “I look fine with the flannel, right?” Stiles almost whines.

Peter just raises an eyebrow at him before looking to Emma. 

“Stiles, Peter has much better fashion sense than you, and flannel makes up very little of his outfits, if ever,” Emma tells Stiles. 

Stiles pouts, hanging his head. “Fine. You win.” 

Emma snorts. “One plain colored t-shirt isn’t going to kill you, buddy, I hate to break it to ya.” She holds up the shirt next to him, then tucks it over her arm, along with a few things she had already planned to try on.

Stiles checks the time on his phone before whistling. “Jeez, time flies, it’s almost 12 already. Wanna finish up here, and I'll make us something for lunch at home?” He asks. 

Emma glances at Peter, and he nods at her. She smiles.

“Okay, sounds good! Let’s go try these on, and then we can pay and leave.” She says cheerfully.

 

The woman at the front counter looks up at them with a bored look on her face. “You gentlemen find everything alright today?” The cashier asks, already checking their items. 

Peter feels a stab of anger he hasn’t felt in a long, long time and sees Stiles clenching his fists at his sides, Emma just smiling at the cashier, her face blank.

“Yes, just fine,” Emma says, handing over her card. The cashier takes it and rings up the clothes.

“Sir, do you want your receipt?” The cashier asks Emma, handing back the card, and Emma nods her head slowly.

“Yes, that’s fine.” She says, grabbing the clothes off the counter and putting them in her shopping bag. 

 

As they walk out of the store and into the parking lot to find Emma’s Cruiser, Stiles gently puts a hand on her arm, and the three of them stop. Peter’s anger simmers steadily, but Stiles was often more… calm about these things. 

“Em, you okay?” He asks her softly, a hint of anger in his tone, but none towards her.

She takes a deep breath, then nods vigorously. “Yeah. Just…” She trails off for a second. “It reminds me how much you guys have really done for me, ya know? Not once have you guys brought up something I didn’t feel like talking about. It’s nice.” She says softly. 

Stiles smiles sadly at her. “Em, respect costs nothing, and you are one of the toughest, prettiest, and most caring women I’ve had the chance to get to know.” He tells her and offers her a hug. 

She accepts, and Peter offers her one too when she turns his way. 

She squeezes him tight, and Peter chuckles. She’s a bear alright, with the hugs to prove it. He doesn’t mind though.

“Well,” Peter says, “That’s enough of normal people for one day, don’t you think?” Stiles snorts at that, and Emma smiles a little. 

“Okay. Let’s go home, then.” She says.

Peter’s pretty sure the rest of the day will turn out much, much better.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles celebrates his 18th birthday with cake and friends.

Stiles pushes open the door to the house, Emma and Peter following behind him, Emma’s shopping bag swinging on her arm, Peter gesturing with his hands.

“No, no, that’s fine, Stiles! I’ve been needing something to do in my spare time, though I’m sure Chris will be disappointed about my absence,” Peter says to him, dismmising his complaints by waving a hand. “You focus on finding this… Wayward mate of Will’s, and I’ll handle this.” Peter says firmly.

 

When Stiles had mentioned Will’s old ‘pack’, Peter had, surprisingly, offered to look into it for him. 

Stiles had never really had a pet growing up- except for sometimes looking after the search dogs at the station- but housing a dog or two for the sake of Will’s improving emotional state was no hardship, in his eyes. 

“Heyo, we’re back! Who wants-” Stiles calls out, only to stop when he enters the kitchen, someone standing there out of the corner of his eye.

 

Magnus is standing in the doorway to the dining room, and Stiles sees several people behind him, including his Dad. Magnus throws open his arms and smiles. 

“Happy Birthday, my young friend!” Magnus says, gesturing towards the dining room. “There’s food, a cake, and I do believe there’s gifts hiding around here somewhere-” Magnus says, before cutting off when Stiles wraps him in a hug. 

Stiles speaks, his words somewhat muffled into Magnus’ shirt. “You didn’t have to, Magnus, I would have been fine with just hanging out around the house.”

Magnus scoffs. “No friend of mine is going to ‘just hang out’ for their birthday, excuse me.” Magnus says to him, pretending to be offended, and Peter and Emma walk by, grins on their faces. 

“That and I reminded you.” Peter says quietly to Magnus as he walks by. 

Magnus sighs. “And Peter reminding me.” He nods, turning them towards the dining room. 

Stiles goes over and gives his Dad a hug, squeezing him tightly. 

“Happy Birthday kiddo,” his Dad tells him, a huge smile on his face. His Dad pulls back and puts a hand on his shoulder. “Your mom would be so proud of you, Mieczysław,” His Dad says quietly to him, a soft smile on his face and eyes just a touch watery. “I know I am.” He says, and hugs Stiles again.

Stiles blinks rapidly, then squeezes his Dad again.

“I love you, Dad.” Stiles says softly, and John smiles. 

“Love you too, Stiles.” He says, before pulling back and gesturing to the room. 

“C ‘mon kiddo, you’ve got a birthday to celebrate!” He tells him excitedly, and Stiles chuckles, before looking over at the dining table.

 

“Oh, wow.” Stiles says, looking around at everyone and the table stacked with food and a large cake.

Stiles was a little shocked at the amount of people, truthfully. Magnus had definitely outdone himself this year.

Most of the people he gladly called friends were here, and some of their friends too. 

Gabriel and Sam, and Castiel and Dean were standing along one side of the table. Lucifer, Maze, and Detective Decker were seated, and a young brown haired girl, maybe about seven or eight, was sitting on Maze’s lap. John and Sherlock were sitting and standing, respectively, Sherlock attempting to act aloof, John smiling happily. Alec was standing off to the side behind Magnus, somewhat more relaxed than Stiles was used to seeing him be. Will was seated, face tilted down and glasses on his face. Tony, Emma, Simon, and Isaac were sitting or standing around the table, all smiling or grinning widely, Isaac boucing excitedly. 

 

“Alright, now that the birthday boy is here, we can begin!” Magnus says loudly, getting everyone’s attention. He gestures for Stiles to come stand next to him, before waving a hand over the cake. 

The candles on the cake light up with an array of different colored flames, flickering brightly. 

The cake looked nice, frosted in what looked like cream cheese frosting, but clearly was homemade, delicate dark frosting letters spelling out, ‘Happy Eighteenth Birthday Stiles’ in loopy cursive. He quickly counts them up and finds that there are eighteen candles. Stiles smiles, then waits. 

“Now, we’re not going to do anything embarrassing, like sing to you, so I will simply say this,” Magnus tells the room, several chuckles emerging at his statement, before turning to Stiles. “Happy Eighteenth Birthday, and make a wish, Stiles!” He says, and Stiles grins before gently blowing out the flames. 

Claps and cheers begin, someone whistling as he stands back and lets Magnus cut the cake into methodical- and large- slices. Magnus hands a corner piece to Stiles.

“For you, birthday boy,” Magnus says, handing off the slice of cake in a humorously grand gesture, then proceeds to begin handing out pieces to everyone else. 

Stiles sits down in one of the empty chairs, then looks around the table at the other foods. 

Trays of fruit, cheeses, and some simple sandwiches cover the table, along with a few smaller bowls, one of which looks to have red jello and pink tinted whip cream- which Magnus hands to Simon- and another plate with a meat and cheese wrap looking finger food, which Stiles sees is his grey plate he uses for whatever human meat meal is being served that day. 

The cake was chocolate, and Stiles was right, the frosting was cream cheese. 

“This is good, Magnus, did you make this?” He asks, and Magnus just grins.

“When I’m so inclined, I can cook quite well. That just doesn’t happen to be often.” He whispers to Stiles conspiritally, and Stiles nods. 

Stiles looks around the table at everyone, a small smile on his face. 

Alec was frowning as he ate his slice of cake, but only because Castiel was staring at him and doing the ‘curious puppy’ head tilt thing. Castiel looked away when Dean touched his arm to get his attention though, and gave Dean a small- enamoured- smile.

Maze was speaking with Detective Decker and the young girl on Maze's lap, eating the cake enthusiatically while stopping every so often to respond to whatever Maze or the Detective had said. 

Lucifer was speaking with Gabriel, who was digging into his slice of cake happily, Sam nibbling a few bites of his before handing it to Gabriel, who takes it with a pleased smile. 

 

Stiles suddenly remembers the odd pair he met in London, and he stands and makes his way around the table to stand next to them. He’d ask them, since he hadn’t had the chance to look into the Angel and Demon duo yet. 

“Hey Gabriel, Lucifer. Hi Sam,” Stiles greets, and Gabriel looks over at him and snorts.

“Jeez, buckaroo, you grew like a tree!” Gabriel says, before turning to look at Sam. “Sam, you are going to have competition for who can hit their head coming through doorways the most!” He says, and Sam just shakes his head with a smile. 

Lucifer looks up at him from his seat. “Hello young Warlock. Congratulations on your coming of age, He says smoothly, before asking, “Is there something you wanted to say?” 

Stiles nods. “Yeah, uh Gabriel, Lucifer, have either of you heard of an Angel named Aziraphale, or a Demon named Crowley?” He asks.

Lucifer looks curiously at him before speaking. “Crowley is a rather common name, amongst Demons.” He says slowly. “I don’t believe there is an Angel with the name Aziraphale name, though I don’t always remember the names of my youngest siblings.” He says a little sadly. 

Gabriel speaks up then. “I listened to what was going on Upstairs for quite a long time, even after I left. Before I became Loki, and I stopped listening as often,” He says quietly. “Aziraphale was the Principality of the East Eden Gate, if I remember correctly,” Gabriel says, then snorts. “He was on Humanities’ side before even the thought came to be in Sam and Dean’s heads.” 

Lucifer perks his head up at that. “Wait a moment, I think I know the Angel your referring to,” He says, looking at Gabriel. “The reason the Horsemen of the Apocalypse change their corporations around the nineties. The failed Armageddon? And the-” 

“And the Demon and Angel who wouldn’t die, yes! That’s them!” Gabriel says with a nod.

“Oh, I know the Demon you were asking about then, Stiles. One of the Fallen. Does pretty much as he pleases with petty temptations, nowadays, though I don’t often look into what Demons are up to.”

“‘Petty temptations?’” Sam asks, and Lucifer nods his head once.

“Yes. Small, irritating things. Doesn’t influence directly, always lets the Humans decide if they’ll do something bad. Gluing coins to sidewalks, influencing the design of highways for maximum traffic buildup, playing annoying music when your waiting on hold for twenty plus minutes, those kinds of petty temptations.” Lucifer says. 

Gabriel smiles. “A Demon whose not quite that, and an Angel who isn’t. There was plenty of chatter about the two of them when they helped prevent an Armageddon, and I think that was what cemented the collaboration between Heaven and Hell to start the Apocalypse.”

Stiles hums. “I didn’t know that. The more you know, I guess.” He says. 

Sam, however, looks like he might need a minute or two to process. 

 

“Stiles, c ‘mon, hurry up so we can give you your presents!” Isaac says, bounding over and dragging Stiles off towards the living room, where everyone was starting to gather. 

“Okay, okay, I’m coming!” Stiles says, then waves at Gabriel and Sam as he leaves. 

He wouldn’t be surprised if it took them a few minutes to come to the living room. That’s okay, he could wait.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Presents!

Stiles follows Isaac to the living room, looking around at everyone, a pile of wrapped presents sitting on the coffee table.

Stiles sits down in the middle of the couch, Emma seated to his right, Simon on his left. 

Magnus comes up first, and picks up a gift off the table, handing it to him. Stiles takes it, noting the size and shape of the present, vaguely aware of Sherlock muttering to John off to the side.

“This one is mine,” Magnus says with a smile, before walking over to stand next to Alec. 

Stiles peels open the paper to find- “‘Il Manuale di maggiore strano besti’, by Amadeo Damico?” He reads.

Magnus nods. “Yes. I know you have always had an interest in languages and creatures, so I thought of you when I saw it.” He says, and Stiles smiles at that. That was true, he was always interested to learn a new aspect of what people thought of supernatural creatures.

“Thanks, Magnus. I can’t wait to read it.” He says sincerely. The first page does look pretty interesting... 

“Alright, me next,” Emma says, pushing her shopping bag from earlier towards him.

Stiles puts down the book and starts a pile for unwrapped presents, grabbing the bag.

Inside the bag was the shirt she bought for him folded over a CD. He moves the shirt and examines the CD. 

“Wait, you got me Death of a Bachelor?!” He asks excitedly, turning over the CD, scanning the back cover. Emma nods with a grin.

“Yeah! I know you really like Panic!, so when I saw it when we were out today, I thought, ‘yes’!” She says, giggling.

Stiles nods. “Absolutely, I approve. Thank you,” he says and offers her a hug. She grins wider and wraps him in a tight hug. 

Sam comes forward, picks up one of the thinner and smaller presents, then offers it to him with a small smile.

“Uh, this one’s from me and Gabriel, but Dean was the one who suggested it.” 

Inside the wrapping paper, he finds a thin box, seven inches long and two across. Opening the box, he finds a blade.

The blade is similar to his own, although his own dagger is a muskrat clip blade, while this one is a sabre clip blade. 

“It has all the same enchantments and poison coatings that your dagger has, I made sure of it,” Gabriel says, grinning at him from across the room.

Stiles gently picks up the dagger, weighing it in his palm. It feels nearly identical to his other dagger, in the weight and the handle size. 

“It feels like my other one,” He says, very gently running a finger along the blade. “This is really nice.” He tells Gabriel.

“Hey, no problem kiddo. Two daggers are always more intimidating than one.” Gabriel says sagely.

“Thanks, guys.” He says to Sam and Dean. Sam smiles, and Dean gives him a nod.

Maze steps forward next, gesturing to a cylindrically shaped present, a smirk on her face. “This one’s my gift. I think you’ll like it.” She says.

Stiles picks it up, and unwraps it, warily wondering what he was going to find inside. 

A large mason jar, filled with large black claws. 

Stiles nods his head, examining the shape of the claws. “Cool. Hellhounds nail clippings?” He asks her, and Maze just grins. 

Nice. They were rare but useful in quite a few demonic spells.

Isaac picks up a thin envelope, handing it to him with a glance to Simon. Stiles takes it and opens it, wondering why Isaac was worried about Simon’s reaction.

Oh. A simple paper ticket sits inside, with the address of a cafe and a time and date printed on it, along with the name of a group. ‘No Sleep ‘til Denver’. He chuckles at that.

“You guys!” Stiles says to them excitedly, before looking over to Simon. “You joined a group?” He asks him. Simon nods slowly.

“I-I’ve always liked music, and-” Simon struggles to say, so Stiles gently cuts him off.

“You don’t need to explain it to me, Simon, I can’t wait to hear you guys play.” He tells him sincerely. Simon’s guitar was something Lily had first sent him when Simon had moved in, and sometimes faint chords could be heard coming from upstairs.

Simon ducks his head, but he has a small smile on his face, so Stiles counts it as a win.

“Thanks for getting me a ticket Isaac,” Stiles says to Isaac, and Isaac smiles widely at him. 

“No problem, Emma and I already have ours!” He says cheerfully, and Stiles sees Simon duck his head again out of the corner of his eye.

John comes forward next and hands him two things. The first is a small box, and the other is a small folded piece of paper. Sherlock perks up in his seat when he spots the paper, glaring at it curiously. 

“The box is mine, and the paper’s from Mycroft. Said to give it straight to you and not let Sherlock have a peek at it.” John tells him. Stiles takes both, unwrapping the box first. 

A box of tea leaves, of nice quality, he finds. The smell is strong, but not overly so. Freshly dried, from the look of them.

“Nice. Thanks, John,” He says, and John smiles at him. 

The paper from Mycroft is simple, with a string of numbers, listed out coordinate style. Stiles wonder exactly what it was Mycroft wanted him to investigate.

He sighs. “I would ask you to tell Mycroft 'thank you', but I have a feeling I’ll be telling it to him myself soon enough,” Stiles says to John, and John nods. 

“I’m not surprised. He gave you something to do then?” John asks curiously, and Stiles chuckles.

“Yeah.” He says.

But what better way to tell him something, other than vague?

Stiles smiled. He was content, listening as people began speaking around him again, the sounds rising as people wandered to the dining room or talked. 

He always did like looking forward to a mystery.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles goes to see Simon play in a band, and plans a trip to Lithuania.

Stiles sat back in his chair in the cafe, smiling as Isaac walks back up to their table with their drinks in a drink tray. 

Simon and four other people were over in a corner of the cafe, setting up.

The cafe was a bit older, but well kept, designed in an industrialist style. Wood paneling, smooth concrete flooring, large glass bay windows that let the setting sun filter in through, and the smell of fresh-brewed coffee wafting gently in the air.

“Okay, here we go,” Isaac says, setting down their drinks and passing them around the table. “One black coffee with cream,” Isaac offers to Tony, who accepts it with a smile.

“Thank you, Isaac,” Tony says, taking a sip from the cup.

“No problem,” Isaac tells him, passing a cup over to Emma next. “One Hazelnut vanilla latte for m’lady,” He says in a poor impression of a British butler. 

Emma snickers as she accepts the cup, doing her own impression of Isaac’s horrible accent. “Oh thank you, mmm, it’s quite good, I think that’ll be all for now mister.” 

Stiles chuckles at their exchange, and Tony shakes his head at the two of them. Isaac grins.

“And for you, a green tea with milk and honey,” He says to Stiles as he hands over the cup. 

“Thanks, Isaac,” Stiles tells him, and Isaac waves a hand as he sits down into the empty chair at the table. 

“Pshh, it’s no big deal.” He says, taking a sip from his own drink. 

Stiles leans towards Emma. “So, you have any idea what they’re playing?” He asks. 

Emma finishes taking a sip of her drink before speaking. “Nope, don’t have the slightest clue,” She says, “But I did have a chance to meet everyone in their band.” 

Emma points to the blond in the back of the stage area fiddling with the settings of an upright string bass amp, plucking the strings before adjusting the knobs some more. 

“We ran into that guy when Simon and I went on campus a few weeks ago,” She snorts, “Literally. He was distracted and talking to that guy over there- the black-haired guy over by the keyboard, uh, David? I’m pretty sure is his name- and they were talking about their lead player just graduated and moved to the west coast, then BAM,” She says, smacking a fist into her palm, “He runs right into Simon.”

“Yeah?” Stiles says. 

“Oh, yeah. Jake- that’s the blond guy- he dropped the entire stack of music papers he was carrying, and Simon mentioned something about the order of the chord progressions as he was handing one of his papers back to him, and they hit it off instantly,” She says, chuckling. 

“They go hang out at this older apartment place for a few hours every other day or so in the early afternoons, and I went with Simon the first time,” She tells him. “I took a few piano lessons when I was younger, but even I could tell they were geeking out pretty hard. Turns out all of them are music majors of some sort.” 

Stiles nods his head, looking over at the group. He can’t hear what they’re saying, but Simon smiles, shaking his head amusedly at something the saxophone player says to him.

The light of Simon’s smile reaches his eyes for once, and Stiles can’t help but feel happy for Simon. Emma had been right, about Simon feeling like a sibling. He was glad to see Simon finding himself again, letting himself feel that it’s okay to try to do normal things.

Something had to be done about Raphael soon though, because Simon still had so much to learn about being a Vampire, and Stiles could only teach him so much. 

When the band finishes setting up, they don’t introduce themselves. Instead, they looked between each other before starting up a song.

A simple, but easy to listen to song, with guitar and bass repeating background parts, the drums keeping steady time in a swing beat, and the saxophone and keyboard playing solo parts back and forth. 

The saxophone player speaks into the mic when the song ends, smiling at the soft applause from within the cafe.

“Hello, that was ‘Pick Up the Pieces’, and we’re No Sleep ‘Til Denver,” They say, before looking around at the audience. “We’ve got a few more songs for ya tonight, and we hope you enjoy your evening.” They say, and adjust their saxophone neck strap before they look between the rest of the band.

To Stiles great surprise, Simon moves a second mic in front of himself, this one pointed at his face, and the band begins to play again, Stiles sitting back in short-lived shock as Simon starts to sing.

“‘Through summers long, and winters cold, may you always have someone good to hold. And may good fortune wait on every bend, and may your winning streak, may it never end. So, roll the dice, boy, ‘cause my money's on you. Take my advice now and put your money down too. Because there's something in the eye you can't pretend, and may your winning streak, may it never end. And may the sign of the southern cross, be some comfort to you when you're lost, and may the devil's evil eye, pass you by. Well, it's not for glory, I tell you true, that I do these things I do for you. But for a promise I made now I must defend, and may your winning streak, may it never end. Hey!’” He sings slow and strong in a melancholy way, and the keyboard player plays a solo over the pause in singing.

Stiles, however, is still awed at Simon’s previously unmentioned talent. Yeah, he knew Simon was in a ‘band’ with a few other people before he came into the Downworld, but this? Stiles was by no means an expert of what good singing was supposed to be, but Simon sounded way better than ‘passably singing along with the song on the radio’ good.

“‘And may the sign of the cross, be some comfort when you're lost, help you when you're all broke down, may the spirit of good brethren, turn you around.  
And may the devil's evil eye, pass you right by, don't you look back my friend. And may the sisters of good charity, take you in. Through summers long and  
winters cold, may you always have someone good to hold, and may good fortune be a constant and a loyal friend, and may your winning streak, may it never end. May your winning streak, may it never end. May your winning streak, may it never end.’” Simon gently sings the final lyrics and strokes the last few chords of the guitar, the song drawn to an end.

Simon smiles shyly at the enthusiastic clapping and cheers from their table, and the applause of the other patrons. 

The saxophone player comes up to the mic again, waving a hand. “Thank you, everybody, that was our rendition of ‘Winning Streak’.” They say, chuckling as another cheer comes. “Thank you. And for those of you who are regulars around here, you might have noticed a new face. Simon, say hi!” They say happily, watching as Simon gives the crowd a little wave. A few chuckles escape from the crowd after that.

“Alright, we’ve got a few more for you, so sit tight,” They say. The bass player switches to bass guitar and the keyboard player fiddles with the settings, the others, and then begin.

Stiles and the others sit and watch through three more songs, all of which seemed just as good as the others- ‘I Feel Better’, ‘Dancing in the Moonlight’, and ‘You’ve Lost That Lovin’ Feeling’. For only being a couple of weeks worth of practice, they were really good, and Stiles grins when Simon finally makes his way over to their table when they are done playing and taking everything down. 

He stands and offers Simon a hug, which Simon accepts, giving him a one-armed hug, his other hand occupied with his guitar case. “Dude! That was awesome!” He says, and Simon smiles when he stands back.

“I’m glad you guys liked it.” He says, genuinely glad, and Isaac shakes his head. 

“No way, that was definitely a ‘love it’. I absolutely enjoyed it. You were great!” Isaac tells him, and Simon practically preens in delight. 

“Yo, Simon!” The saxophone player says as they make their way past, gently smacking their fist against Simon’s on the upper arm as they go by. “See you tomorrow, yeah? Celebratory coffee gathering at Andy’s.” 

Simon nods, smiling in agreement. “Yeah, see you there!” He says, and the saxophone player yells as they walk over towards the door. 

“Eleven or you’re dead! See you, my dude!” They shout from the exit and wave their hand in a peace gesture before walking out the door. 

“They seem… like quite an energetic person,” Tony says as they all stand and make their way out to the Cruiser that Emma and Simon take turns driving. 

“Oh, yeah,” Simon says, “That’s Alexis for ya. They’ve been like that since I’ve met them, as long as they’ve already had their minimum caffeine intake for the day.” He says, snickering.

Simon puts his case in the back of the car before hopping into the front seat. 

“Hey Stiles, do you have anything planned for dinner, or can we stop for pizza?” Emma asks him as Simon drives out of the parking lot.

“Yeah, grilled chicken and the cauliflower-not-potato egg salad you guys liked when I made it last,” He says.

“Oooh, yum!” Emma says excitedly. “Yeah, I really liked that.”

Tony nods his head. “It was pretty good,” he says, agreeing with Emma before looking back at Stiles from the passenger seat. “No steak, or…?” 

Stiles shakes his head. “Nah, Dad’s having dinner with us before he takes off later, and I already planned on chicken, and I have enough for leftovers.”

“Going to look into that paper Mycroft gave you the other day?” Simon asks curiously.

“Yeah, it looks like it’s this place in the middle of freaking nowhere somewhere in Lithuania,” Stiles tells him.

Simon scoffs. “What the hell’s in Lithuania?” He asks.

Stiles shrugs. “Hell if I know, but that’s what I’m going to find out though, aren’t I?” Hopefully nothing with too many teeth.

Stiles wondered what on Earth he was going to find in Lithuania, in what appears to be a run-down castle, according to google maps. Nothing friendly, he guessed. 

Oh well, he's certain he'll find out when he gets there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone's interested, the songs the band play are- 'Pick Up the Pieces' by Average White Band, 'Winning Streak' by Glen Hansard, 'I Feel Better' by Gotye, 'Dancing in the Moonlight' by King Harvest, and 'You've Lost That Lovin' Feeling' by Hall and Oates.


End file.
